


Not-So-Subtle Memory Jogging Techniques

by camelots_scribe



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Modern Era, Reincarnation, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camelots_scribe/pseuds/camelots_scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin (or Merlin Emrys, as he's now known) has been wandering alone for centuries following the death of his master, King Arthur Pendragon. He had been promised that Arthur would rise again, but his faith is dwindling...until he meets a very familiar face at university, that is. If only he could get his old friend to remember him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-So-Subtle Memory Jogging Techniques

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merlinsbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=merlinsbutterfly).



Merlin – or Merlin Emrys as he now styled himself, due to the necessity of having a surname – was just about to start studying for his postgraduate at university. As usual, he was not expecting anything thrilling to happen to him that year. His life had been led in a catatonic state for a very long time now – too long.

He was, by nature, a sociable person, but he rarely allowed himself to make friends. If he made friends he had to watch them suffer and feel helpless whilst they did. Also, they were nowhere near as much of a permanent feature as Merlin was.

Merlin had watched his best friend’s life being slowly – piece by piece – dismantled by his enemies. He had done everything in his considerable power to help him, but Merlin could not save his friend’s life in the end. He had felt the life draining from his friend as he held him in his arms, all those years ago.

Merlin had, however, been promised that this loss was not the end, but he wasn’t so sure. He had been waiting for centuries for the return of King Arthur. In that time, he had watched many friends – pale as they were in Arthur’s wake – grow old and pass on into the spirit world. But that realm was denied to him. He was so very old.

He had to keep his mind active, or else he’d lose it. He’d taken up many occupations over the centuries, from arguably the most famous playwright of all time (‘Is this a dagger which I see before me/The handle toward my hand?’) to a wartime prime minister (well, _someone_ had to take care of the nation whilst Arthur was away, and reinforce the message that it would ‘never surrender’). Now, he was studying for yet _another_ degree (he’d long since lost count of how many he actually had). This time he was studying Arthurian Literature. Well, he couldn’t resist – so many of the inaccuracies about Arthur _were_ pretty amusing. Also, it made him feel closer to his old friend.

Other than immersing himself in tales about his adventures with Arthur, Merlin was not really expecting anything of great significance to happen to him that year. In this area, his vast wisdom was lacking.

****

In need of some company, Merlin had signed up to take care of one of the new undergraduate first years. The day had finally arrived for him to go to the halls of residence and meet his first year. He had been given the room number only, so it was with great curiosity that he knocked on the door when he arrived.

When the door was opened, there was little Merlin could do but gasp. Before him stood a tall, muscular young man, with blonde hair; deep blue eyes and a slightly sardonic smile.

Eventually Merlin gathered his wits and managed to hold his hand out to the man, introducing himself: “Hello, I’m Merlin Emrys. I’m going to be looking after you.”

Merlin knew what the man would say when they shook hands, and – sure enough – he replied: “I’m Arthur Pendragon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Merlin searched for a hint of recognition in Arthur’s eyes, but he could find nothing. Instead Arthur said: “Yeah, I know: Arthur Pendragon, like _the_ Arthur Pendragon. I’ve heard it plenty of times today already. I swear those legends were written just to haunt me – I’m so sick of hearing about them! So, what are you studying?”

“Er…Arthurian Literature.” Merlin revealed awkwardly.

“Oh. Right. Well. Whatever floats your boat.”

“But don’t worry – I _do_ have other conversation topics besides my degree,” Merlin assured him hastily. “Like where the best places to go round here are and stuff like that. I did my undergrad here as well, so I know this place pretty well.” Merlin had also been the city’s mayor during the final year of Queen Victoria’s reign, but he didn’t think that it would be prudent to let Arthur know about _that_ little fact.

“Great, because I have _no_ idea where anything is here. I’ve never even _been_ here before. I just sort of… _found_ myself here.”

A jolt ran down Merlin’s spine. “You mean you didn’t apply here? Surely you _must_ have, in your last year of college.”

“The strange thing is – and this is going to sound _really_ mental – I can’t even _remember_ college,” Arthur admitted, looking embarrassed. “I mean, I must have done exams to get here, I suppose, but…I don’t know. All I remember is somehow finding out that I’d got into this place and then…well, here I am.”

_“Right.”_

“Oh God, that sounded really weird, didn’t it?”

“Just – just a bit.” Merlin agreed cautiously.

“I promise I haven’t been drinking or anything like that.”

“Don’t worry – I believe you. Do you remember anything before you found out you got in?” Merlin asked him tentatively.

“No…just having a really long lie-in.”

Merlin snorted, muttering under his breath: “ _I’ll_ say!”

“What was that?

“Er…come this way,” Merlin amended quickly. “I’ll take you to the Freshers Fair. You can meet some more people and sign up to some societies there.”

“Great. Lead the way then Merlin.”

Merlin did so, and – as he walked – tried to work out what on _earth_ was going on.

****

Once Merlin had navigated Arthur to the lawn where the Freshers Fair was being held, he decided to do his best to trigger Arthur’s memory.

His first not-so-subtle memory jogging technique was to take Arthur over to the Equestrian Society’s stall, in the hope that it would make him remember all the horse rides they had been on many years ago. However, all Arthur remembered was that he could indeed ride a horse, so he signed up to the society.

Undeterred, Merlin next led him over to the Larping Society’s table. After initially being embarrassed that Merlin was suggesting he should take up something so ‘nerdy’ (a word he had never heard fall from Arthur’s lips before) Arthur came to the realisation that he had the skills required to do battle, so he put his name down for that also.

Arthur seemed to be still no closer to remembering that he was _the_ Arthur Pendragon – the Once and Future King – and that Merlin was _the_ Merlin – the most powerful sorcerer of all time – so Merlin brought out the big guns. He dragged him over to the Magic Society’s stall.

“But I don’t _know_ any magic.” Arthur protested.

“No, but _I_ do,” Merlin told him, looking for the reaction that never came. “I was the head of this society for two years actually. I guess it, er, comes with the name.”

“No Arthurian legends, remember?” Arthur reminded him firmly.

Merlin sighed. “How could I forget?”

“Well, it’s great that you’re magically gifted, but that’s not exactly my area. Can we go to the Camping Society over there?”

“You’re interested in camping?”

“Yeah, I, er…I used to go camping a long time ago. At least I _think_ I did.”

“You did,” Merlin said, then – noting Arthur’s perplexed expression – quickly added: “What I _mean_ is that you look like the camping type…the ‘outdoorsy’ type.”

“I am. I think.”

Arthur gazed off into the distance, as though his mind was lost in a faraway realm. After a few moments Merlin waved his hand in front of Arthur’s face. “ _Hello-oo_ – Earth to Arthur! Are you in there?”

Arthur jumped. “Whoa. Sorry. Went a bit weird there.”

“That’s fine. What were you thinking about?” Merlin asked, sounding somewhat like an over-eager pre-teen girl trying to pick the boy of her affection’s mind to find the key to his heart.

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. Just stuff. You probably wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Arthur looked inexplicably sad and – despite having had a centuries-long lie-in – tired to his very core. His eyes were still unfocussed, and Merlin could see him visibly struggle to drag his consciousness back up to the surface. Finally, Arthur said: “No – don’t worry. _I_ don’t even understand it myself, so I highly doubt _you_ would. No offense.”

“None taken.” Merlin lied.

Before Merlin could interrogate Arthur any further, he was already over at the Camping Society’s stall. Merlin went over there, hoping against hope that Arthur was beginning to remember just who he really was.

****

Arthur didn’t exactly have time to ‘find himself’ that night though, since there was the Freshers party to attend, at a local nightclub. Merlin went along to keep an eye on him, since he wasn’t sure how Arthur would conduct himself in a nightclub. After all, it _was_ pretty different from The Rising Sun, the tavern in Camelot.

King out of the water he may have been, but fish out of water Arthur certainly was not. His apparent in-built knowledge of the modern world evidently included clubbing, if the sight of him downing shots and ending the night dancing on the bar – of all the clichés – was anything to go by. Merlin saw that Arthur was far from steady on his feet; the King soon stumbled atop the bar. Merlin caught him and began the long journey back to Arthur’s halls. He dragged his resurrected friend through the streets, since the last busses and trains had long since departed and – understandably – no taxi drivers were willing to let Arthur in their cabs. Merlin may have waited centuries for Arthur’s return, but that didn’t leave him any less resentful of the task of lugging Arthur’s near-dead weight back to his halls.

Eventually, he got Arthur back and – after fumbling to find Arthur’s keys in his pockets – Merlin managed to carefully lower him into bed.  Then he got onto the floor and settled himself into a sleeping position. Having spent many nights sleeping on the ground he was not out of his comfort zone. In fact, he was exactly _in_ his comfort zone: he had Arthur by his side, finally, and he was serving him again. If only Arthur could remember his past life; that the legends which plagued him were, in fact, based on reality _– his_ reality.

****

Merlin made several not-so-subtle attempts to remind Arthur of his true identity over the following few weeks. He bent the rules a bit, using his magic to ‘persuade’ the head of each society Arthur had joined to allow him to join also.

Arthur excelled in the Larping Society, but it didn’t seem to remind him of all the battles he and Merlin had fought. In fact, it just seemed to give him the opportunity to mock Merlin’s inferior swordsmanship. Merlin therefore thought that he had been perfectly justified in inconspicuously using his magic to trip Arthur up in front of everyone.

The Camping Society provided Merlin with a sense of nostalgia, as he was sat round a campfire with Arthur for the first time in centuries; for the first time since Arthur been dying, and had felt betrayed by the revelation that Merlin was a sorcerer. The Arthur of the present did not seem to share Merlin’s sense of nostalgia. He was apparently more interested in searching for nearby Wi-Fi networks, having developed a fondness for internet cat videos.

Merlin’s hopes of jogging Arthur’s memory were now pinned solely on the Equestrian Society. Arthur proved to still be a skilled horse rider, but no memories seemed to have been triggered. Towards the end of the ride, however, a dog darted across the path they were riding on. Arthur’s horse reared, and – unable to use magic in front of the other society members – Merlin could only watch as he was thrown to the ground.

Merlin dismounted from his own horse immediately, rushing to Arthur’s side. Arthur was out cold. “Call an ambulance!” Merlin yelled to the others.

As he waited for the ambulance to arrive, Merlin did not leave Arthur’s side.  “Don’t you _dare_ injure yourself now, dollophead,” he muttered. “I’ve only just got you back.”

Arthur’s eyes slowly opened. He gazed at Merlin incredulously, then gasped: “Merlin! What are _you_ doing here? I thought I’d never find you!”

The other members of the Equestrian Society had given them some space, since Merlin’s constant presence by Arthur’s side had led many to believe that they were more than just good friends. Merlin was now extremely grateful for these rumours, since they could now speak openly.

“Do you remember now?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, I do,” Arthur replied, and it was all Merlin could do to stop himself from performing cartwheels. “Freya awoke me from my rest and told me that I was needed again. She cast a spell on me to give me knowledge of the language and the ways of this society, and the last thing I remember is rising from the lake. I can’t remember how I got all my belongings…or how I found you. I suppose I was drawn to you.”

“But why _now?”_ Merlin wondered aloud. “Albion has suffered so much in your absence. It’s seen invasions; plagues; tyrannical leaders; civil wars; two World Wars…There has been so much hardship! And I’ve been here alone, forced to watch all of those dreadful events unfold, and to provide whatever help I could. I have been so lonely, Arthur – lonelier than you could ever _imagine._ It’s been…well, it’s been a living death.”

“And _that_ is why I have returned – for _you,_ Merlin,” Arthur revealed. “Albion _needs_ you to protect it. Yes, there has been indescribable suffering, but it would have been even worse without you. And there’s more on the way – so much more. Freya showed me. Albion is going to need you more than ever, and you can’t protect it properly if you’re a broken man.”

“Albion needs you, too. You are the Once and Future King.” Merlin declared.

“Yes, well, there _is_ that as well.” Arthur grinned.

“I’m glad you’re back, dollophead.” Merlin smiled.

“I’m glad to _be_ back – even if it _does_ mean that I have to spend my days with you.”

At that point, the ambulance arrived on the scene. The paramedics came out and approached Merlin and Arthur. “So, I hear you fell from your horse, young man,” one of them said to Arthur. “Can you tell me your name?”

Merlin heard a note of pride in Arthur’s voice as he answered: “My name is Arthur Pendragon.”

“Ah, as in the King?” the other paramedic asked, looking amused.

“The very same.”

“Wow, that’s quite some head injury you’ve got there mate!” the paramedic teased him.

Merlin and Arthur just grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tumblr user merlinsbutterfly, who requested 'a modern Arthur/Merlin bromance where they see each other for the first time and Arthur doesn’t remember.' - My apologies for the extreme lateness; I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> And my apologies for the fanciful societies at the university Arthur and Merlin go to. What can I say - I needed to make them fit the story!
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Please note that I do not own the rights to the Shine/BBC television series 'Merlin' or any of the characters from the show.


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